Christ the King ~ The Last Sunday after Pentecost
November 23, 2008
The Ven. Richard I Cluett

I don’t know about you but when I hear good news followed by not-so-good news, I tend to focus on the not-so-good news. It is what I remember, hold onto, and beat myself up with. Today’s gospel provides one more opportunity to do that.

We tend to assign goatishness to ourselves, thinking that we never have done quite enough to measure up to God or our own view of our best selves, and we are going to pay a penalty for that. We hear Jesus rendering a hellish judgment, rather than hearing him tell us how easy it is to claim our inheritance as God’s sons and daughters. So, I am going to reframe things a little bit this morning.

My children, over the years, have had a myriad of favorite songs. Some of them were a lot more singable than others. When they were very, very young, one of their favorite- and a favorite of mine, too – was a song sung by the Limeliters. It goes like this:

Move over and make room for Marty, He doesn't take very much space, Since Marty is one of our very best friends 
We surely can find him a place.

Move over, move over, And quick like a rig-it-ty jig, 
We'll always move over for Marty, For Marty is not very big.

He won't have to stand in the corner, He won't have to sit on the floor, 
For we can move over for Marty, 
And still there is room for one more.

Move over, move over, 
And quick like a rig-it-ty jig, 
We'll always move over for Marty, 
For Marty is not very big.
(Words and music by Malvina Reynolds; copyright 1954, renewed 1982.)

The songwriter wrote about the song: “One of the things children learn easily… is to make room for one another.”

We learn it early, we learn it easily, but we don’t always remember to make room for Marty, in whatever guise, in whatever shape, in whatever color, in whatever gender, in whatever economic status, in whatever condition Marty comes to us.

We are to make room for one another and to make room for the other. And there you have the nub, the core of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and there you have the central teaching about the work of a disciple and the work of the church. And there you have the basis for judgment When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, when he sits on the throne of glory… to judge the world.

And judgment will be rendered on this basis: Did you, did I make room for Marty? Did we make room for him in our church? Did we make room for him at our table? Did we make room for him in our care and concern? Did we make room for him in our lives? Did we make room for him in our hearts?

It is also easy to unlearn that early lesson so easily learned. The world we live in teaches other lessons, has other priorities, holds out other promises, and exacts penalties for going against the world’s way. What matters to Jesus is not our status or achievements, but our continuing willingness to let the life of God be lived through us, concretely in our acts of love for others.

But we get so busy, don’t we? We have so many responsibilities. We have so many worries and anxieties. We have so much to contend with in our own lives, that the needs of others, indeed, the very fact of another’s existence can elude our attention, escape our notice and our care. We can so easily hurry on by and not notice what is right before us, who is right before us. I am sure that we don’t, by and large, do that on purpose. We are good people, with good hearts.

But sometimes our hearts are sore or bruised or fatigued or focused elsewhere or hardened that we become inured and unresponsive to the plight of others, and we miss the one God has placed before us for our care. That’s why the Apostle Paul prays that the eyes of our hearts will be enlightened.

The judgment of Jesus will deal with such things as: when I was thirsty in Sudan you helped me find water; when I was longing for something useful to do, you let me help; when I was forced to leave my homeland, you gave me sanctuary and made this place my home; when I was homeless and cold, you gave me shelter and warmth; when I was ill and in hospital you visited me as you could; when I was lonely, you came to see me. When I was young, you spent time with me. When I was in prison you prayed for me, cared for me and you visited me. When my clothes wore out you found me new ones. When I was feeling lost you stayed with me and helped me find my way.

These are not big things, these are not demanding of huge sacrifice, these do not require of enormity of effort, but they are signs of God’s love and presence in your life and in the life that has been touched by you because you made room in your life and in your heart so that God’s love could flow through.

In all my years of life and ministry I have been in a lot of hospitals, food pantries, clothing thrift shops, kitchens and dining rooms filled with the poor and hungry, church school classrooms. The people I have encountered in these places cooking, serving, sorting, visiting, consoling, engaging, teaching, welcoming, chatting – these people are really just ordinary people doing ordinary, mundane, and sometimes very menial tasks that just happen to enrich and enable the lives of others, and thereby they are rich and beautiful beyond measure.

Because they have moved over and made room in their lives and in their hearts to bring care into the life of another, they have warmed the hearts of those whose lives they have touched – as at the same time they have touched and warmed the very heart of God.

Most of them would say something akin to, “Aw shucks, I didn’t really do anything. I just sat a while. I just cooked a meal. I just sorted some clothes. It wasn’t much.”

It is to them that Jesus says, “Come you blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you.”

If you have not yet done so or not done so lately, today Jesus invites you to move over and make room in your heart and in your life for those he has placed in our care. It is never too late.

Amen.